


Pumpkin Pie

by Slytherclaw (Geminia905)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), UnDeadwood (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Drama, M/M, Post-Canon, Tags May Change, UnDeadwood Mini-series (Critical Role)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:08:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22611553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geminia905/pseuds/Slytherclaw
Summary: Hallowe'en comes to Deadwood much to Clayton's displeasure.
Relationships: Reverend Matthew Mason/Clayton Sharpe
Comments: 53
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is not the promised sequel to Hearts Royal, but it takes place in the same universe with my headcanon for Clayton's past.
> 
> This should make sense even if you haven't read Hearts Royal.
> 
> I'm trying to keep my muses cooperating while I try to nail down a plot for the second story in that series. This one should be only 2-5 parts at most (of course HR was supposed to be short, too, so who knows).
> 
> Depending on how the actual sequel goes, this may end up being non-canon for the series, so I won't be adding it to that page until I know for sure.
> 
> I have set the events of UnDeadwood & Hearts Royal in September of 1878, so this story takes place about a month later.

_ Tuesday, October 29th, 1878 _

"Not another one."

Matthew glanced up from the supply list he was studying to see what his companion was growling about this time and was not particularly surprised at what he saw.

"It's just a pumpkin, Clayton." He really didn't understand what had gotten into his friend lately. ' _ The way he keeps glaring at gourds, you would think one had done him a personal slight at some point. _ '

"It's not 'just a pumpkin.' It's one of them damn  _ Jack-o'-lanterns _ Bella and those Irishmen have every fool in town trippin' over themselves to make." Clayton scowled in disgust.

Matthew tried his best to hold back a grin, but wasn't sure how well he succeeded. Ever since Clayton had decided to go clean-shaven, removing nearly ten years from his appearance, to throw some unwise and persistent bounty hunters off his scent a while back, his scowls had become less menacing and more - well - cute. 

The last week, those cute scowls had been out in force - ever since Arabella had come up with an idea to try and put the citizens of Deadwood a bit more at ease after the latest bout of supernatural unrest the Deadwood Five had been charged with cleaning up, and had gone to speak to some of the local Irishmen and come back with plans for a town-wide celebration of All Hallow's Eve.

She and Miriam had banded together and managed to use their charm to acquire a shipment of turnips, pumpkins and other gourds and convince the townsfolk that carving so-called Jack-o'-lanterns would help to stave off any lingering bad spirits.

"What're you grinnin' at?" The scowl deepened and Matthew wanted so badly to lean down and kiss it off Clayton's handsome face. Unfortunately, not only would it be unseemly for the town's reverend to be seen kissing his boyfriend in the general store, but their budding relationship had not yet reached the point of any physical intimacy beyond hugging or holding hands.

"I'm sorry, I have just never seen you as hostile towards anything living, dead or undead, as you have been towards these harmless vegetable displays."

For a moment, it looked as though Clayton were building up a head of steam to go off on a tangent, but then his shoulders sagged and the scowl melted away to something more open and vulnerable. "It ain't the 'lanterns, really. It's just what they represent - Hallowe'en, All Hallow's Eve, whatever you want to call it."

"You have a problem with the day?"

"Just that I was born on it," Clayton muttered, his voice so low that Matthew nearly missed it.

"It's your birthday?" Matthew exclaimed. Clayton frantically motioned for him to keep his voice down, so he continued a bit quieter, "It's only two days away. Why on Earth didn't you say anything, Clayton?"

Clayton stared at him as though he'd just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Well, it's not the sort of thing one goes around--"

"Hey, Reverend," the store clerk called, suddenly appearing from the back room. "I found some of those wood stakes, do you know what size you'll be needing?"

"Um." Flustered, Matthew looked back at the list Bella had given him. "Not sure. I'd probably need to look, if you can give me just a minute." He turned back to Clayton.

"Go finish your shopping, Reverend. I'm going to the Gem and get a drink. I'll catch up with you in a bit." Clayton turned and left before Mason could respond.

' _ Well, looks like I need to have a talk with Miriam, _ ' Matthew thought, a slow smile forming as he made his way toward the store's back room. ' _ We got a surprise birthday party to plan. _ '


	2. Chapter 2

"Reverend," Miriam sighed, giving the man before her an almost pitying look. "I am more than happy to arrange for a cake and small gathering for Mr. Sharpe's birthday, but have you really thought about what you're asking?

"You want us all to surprise a man who makes his living with a gun, and who was probably the most paranoid man I'd met  _ before _ he was shot down by a friend and attacked by some sort of evil spirit little more than a month back."

Matthew winced. "I see your point. I just wanted to do something special for him."

"I know. Your heart's in the right place." Miriam patted him on the arm, giving him a warm, if somewhat concerned smile. "Like I said I'm happy to arrange a small get-together on Thursday, but, have you considered that Mr. Sharpe may not particularly  _ want _ to celebrate his birthday? I mean, he hasn't mentioned it to anyone before now, after all."

"Why would anyone  _ not _ want to celebrate their birthday?"

* * *

Clayton sat at his usual corner table, back to the wall, halfway through the bottle Johnny had delivered when he arrived. Across the way, a group of rowdy Irishmen were laughing and swapping tales while drinking away the modest share of gold they'd recently come into.

One of the men had made a comment earlier that made no sense to him and he was still puzzling it over in his mind, not realizing how lost in thought he'd become until a hand landed on his shoulder, as a familiar figure dropped into the chair beside him, causing him to start enough to nearly upend the table in his haste to defend himself, before he registered who it was. 

"Damn, Clay. Never figured I'd find you woolgatherin' in public like this," Aly drawled, grabbing the bottle to steady it, before tipping it into the glass he'd grabbed on the way over. "Them Irish must be real interestin'."

"One of 'em just said something that didn't make any sense."

"Just one of 'em?" Aly smiled, as the men talked over each other in Gaeilge.

"They were sober and speakin' English at the time." Clayton smiled slightly, despite himself. He debated for a moment, then asked, "Aly, have you ever heard of havin' a baby on Hallowe'en bein' a good thing?"

"Ah! I take it Mr. Kelly's here...Yup, I see him." Aly finished scanning the group and turned his attention back to Clayton. "When I took Bella up to talk to 'em about all that Hallowe'en shit, he's the one who gave her most of the information. Apparently, the midwife told them there's a good chance their child will come that day and it's supposed to be good luck. Somethin' about the child being able to see spirits and be protected from evil ones. I'd have called it all superstitious nonsense a couple months ago, but after what we've seen, I kind of hope he's right."

Aly stopped to take a drink, then studied Clayton with a critical eye. "So, what about that's got you all tied up in knots?"

"I ain't tied up, it's just...not what I'd ever heard."

_ "I knew you were no good when you were in my womb, then you came into the world on the same night the Devil walks among us. You were damned from birth and don't you forget it, boy." _

Clayton shook the old memory away, downed one last shot and pushed the bottle over to Aly, as he rose to leave. "Enjoy. I'm gonna head out. I promised Matthew I'd meet up with him."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got called in for an extra half-shift tonight, so here's an extra chapter. :)

Clayton made his way to the cozy little brand new two-story house that now stood by the church. The Parsonage, as it was known to the locals, had gone up fairly quickly - a combination of gold and Al Swearengen's influence being a powerful motivator - and now acted as home to four of the Deadwood Five.

He entered the mud room and made sure to take his boots and jacket off before entering the living area, lest he get yet another swat and lecture from Miriam this week, then went searching for Matthew, who should've been home by now. 

Voices drew his attention to the kitchen, so he made his way there, only to have Miriam and Matthew turn to look at him as he entered, the latter with a sheepish expression that made it clear what, or rather  _ who _ , the subject of their conversation had been.

"Hello, sugar," Miriam greeted with a smile. "We were just talkin' about you."

"You don't say."

"Reverend, would you like to tell Mr. Sharpe what we were just discussing?" she coaxed, sparing an encouraging smile for Matthew, as well.

"Um. Well." Matthew cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. "I was just... That is, Miriam and I were... Aw, hell. Clayton, how do you feel about birthday parties?"

"How do I feel about what?" Clayton asked, perplexed. What on Earth was Matthew talking about?

"I want to throw you a birthday party, if it's alright with you," Matthew said more slowly, misunderstanding Clayton's confusion. "Doesn't have to be anything big. I know you don't like crowds. Maybe just some cake and a few decorations."

Clayton looked from Matthew to Miriam, hoping for some assistance, as Matthew was clearly speaking English, but nothing he was saying made any sense.

"Clayton, honey," Miriam said softly, as realization dawned on her. "Have you  _ ever _ celebrated your birthday?"

Clayton simply shook his head.

"Not even as a child?" Matthew sounded appalled. "Surely your parents would want to do something to commemorate their son's birth?"

"Mama always cursed my birth. She said the Devil brought me into the world just to spite her." Clayton's eyes widened as the words seemed to leave his mouth of their own volition and he dropped his gaze to the floor, blushing.  _ Shit. Why'd you go and tell them that? _

Matthew could only stand and gape in utter horror and bewilderment at the notion of a parent ever saying such a thing to a child. Somewhere in his brain, an old memory tried to flicker to life; words spoken in confidence around a campfire and etched in grief from a deathbed, but it slipped away before he could give it much conscious thought.

Miriam, however, was moving almost immediately. She stepped in front of Clayton, placing a gentle hand on his chin and encouraging him to meet her gaze. "Sweetheart, you listen to me.  _ The Lord _ gave your mother a beautiful gift and if she was too much of a blind fool to see that, then she earned and deserved any spite that ever came her way."  _ And if I ever get the chance, I'll show her what spite really is. _

She gave Clayton a reassuring smile, gently brushed her fingertips over his cheek and then turned to look out the window. "The sun's going down. If you two are going to pay a visit to the cemetery tonight, you'd best get going. 

"Send Aly this way if you see him. I'll get supper started and start looking into what ingredients I'll need to get to make a cake for Thursday." She looked Clayton in the eye once more. " _ This family _ has an important birthday to celebrate."


	4. Chapter 4

The walk to the cemetery was relatively short, but today Matthew felt as though they were walking to Texas. It wasn’t unusual for their weekly walk to be mostly silent - Clayton was laconic by nature - but today the silence was unusually heavy and he knew he only had himself to blame.

Why hadn’t he paid more attention to Clayton’s mood when he mentioned his birthday in the store? If he’d been looking forward to his birthday, he surely wouldn’t have been scowling at everything that reminded him of that day.  _ Stupid. Always going off half-cocked and now all you’ve done is make him relive things that cause him pain. It’s no wonder he’s not eager to talk. It’s a miracle he’s even walking this close-- _

His self-recriminations were cut short as he felt a tentative brush of fingers against his hand. He looked down to see Clayton gingerly placing his palm against Matthew’s larger one in an open invitation.

The gesture made Matthew’s heart flutter, as it was still rare for Clayton to initiate any type of physical affection, and he happily accepted, cupping his hand around Clayton’s and squeezing gently. The shy smile he received in return turned the fluttering in his heart to a pounding throb he was certain could be heard back in town.

“I’m sorry,” they both spoke in unison.

Immediately, they both stopped walking, staring at each other in surprise, and laughed lightly as the remaining tension immediately bled away.

“What on Earth are  _ you _ apologizing for?” Matthew asked, reaching out with his free hand to lightly tap Clayton’s nose. “I’m the one that dredged up your past with my stupid idea--”

“It wasn’t stupid and  _ I’m _ the one who dug up the past, Matty. You were trying to do something nice and I should’ve just gone along with it. I could’ve always asked Miriam about it later.”

“You  _ really _ don’t know what a birthday party is?” Matthew asked softly.

“Well, obviously it’s a party and it has something to do with the day you’re born,” Clayton answered drily. “I ain’t so ignorant I can’t figure that out. I just never dreamed anyone would celebrate such a thing - especially mine.”

“Well,” Matthew drawled, using their still-clasped hands to pull Clayton against his side, before letting go and wrapping an arm around his shoulders to keep him close, as they resumed their walk. “I can’t imagine  _ not _ celebrating yours - this year and every year to come.”

* * *

Dusk was in full effect by the time they crested the hill that led to Deadwood’s small cemetery. Matthew found himself holding his breath until the first wisps of fog over the graves became visible.

No one was sure exactly why the spirits were here or how long they would stay. Curly, a local Hunkpapa shaman, believed they were awaiting a specific moment or event to occur and that one day they would simply be gone. This is why Matthew insisted on visiting at least once a week, while the weather permitted. 

Clayton, bless his heart, had agreed to accompany him on every trip, even though he didn’t actually have the same memories or connections that Matthew had developed over the long week that a newborn spirit had, unbeknownst to anyone, inhabited Clayton’s body following the Reverend’s unusually successful use of a healing spell that had brought the gunslinger back from the very precipice of death.

They stopped a few yards from the boundaries of the cemetery, not wanting to disturb the spirits’ sentinel duty, and Matthew scanned the area for the smallest of the clouds of unnatural fog. 

Sure enough, he spotted the spirit Aly had dubbed Clayton, Jr., much to Clayton’s consternation, hovering over a small headstone which read ‘Amos Kinsley, shot 1878’ and overlooked an empty grave.

The sight of the stone never failed to make Matthew’s heart clench and he moved behind Clayton, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and pulling him flush against his chest. Clayton, understanding the other man’s unspoken need for reassurance that he was here and alive, simply placed his hands on the arms encircling him and gave a gentle squeeze. 

It was at this moment the little spirit seemed to notice them. A bright white light began to emit from within the wisps of fog and it suddenly rocketed toward them at an incredible speed and began to encircle them.

Waves of warm pleasure washed over them and memories of every time the spirit had heard the word ‘hello’ began to project themselves over and over within its misty form.

“Okay. Okay. Hello.” Matthew laughed at the little spirit’s exuberance. “It’s good to see you, too. Isn’t it, Clay?”

“Sure,” Clayton responded, nonplussed. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to talking to mist. “Um. Hello.”

The spirit didn’t seem bothered by his rather lackluster greeting, as it began its weekly routine of sharing images of things it had seen since the last time they visited. Mostly this tended to consist of things like deer and the occasional coyote, but occasionally they’d get glimpses of places and creatures they didn’t recognize.

The images abruptly cut off as they all became aware of a flashing red light coming from the cemetery and looked to see one of the largest spirits beaming light in their direction. The warmth surrounding them heated a bit, and they got the distinct feeling the little spirit was blushing, then it projected a picture of Miriam at her sternnest, before reluctantly moving away from them and heading back for what they assumed must be the spiritual equivalent of a dressing down.

“Y’know,” Matthew drawled, bending down to speak in Clayton’s ear, “that little spirit should be all the proof you need that your mother was wrong. It’s only here because of the goodness in your heart. Never forget that.”

Clayton closed his eyes and considered the words for a minute, allowing the warmth and love in them to soothe a bit of the hurt that had resurfaced earlier today. Finally, he turned himself in Matthew’s arms, not breaking contact, and met the other man’s gaze, seeing the love shining in his brown eyes and hoping that he could see the same reflected back in Clayton’s own.

“I believe Bella said it was  _ both _ of our hearts that were responsible.  _ I _ wouldn’t be here without you. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that, Matty.” He swallowed heavily, his mouth feeling suddenly dry as three words he didn’t think he’d ever say refused to remain unsaid any longer. “I love you.”

Matthew’s eyes widened at the admission, before a huge smile broke over his face and he seemed to beam brighter than the nearby spirits. The next thing Clayton knew, he was being lifted in the air and spun around, before being crushed to the bigger man’s chest once more.

“I love you, too, Clay.” Matthew felt tears prick at his eyes. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me.”

“Mmmph.” Clay slapped lightly against the other man’s arms, as he struggled to breathe. Finally, Matthew seemed to get the message and loosened his grip enough for Clayton to pull back slightly, gasping for air. “I think I have some idea,” he answered drily, but couldn’t suppress a grin. “Y’know there are better ways you could steal my breath, if you’d stop yer yammerin’.”

Matthew’s smile softened and he reached a hand up to cup Clayton’s cheek, using his thumb to tilt the other man’s chin, as he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on the cupid’s bow lips he’d ached to taste since the day they met. His tongue teased lightly at Clayton’s bottom lip until he felt the other man’s mouth open with a small sigh and he deepened the kiss even as Clayton’s arms wound around his neck, pulling him in even more.

The world seemed to fade away as they lost themselves to the kiss, unaware of anything other than the other man in their arms and the feeling of finally being reunited with a piece of themselves they hadn’t realized was missing.

Gradually, the need for air won out and they were forced to separate, though Matthew kept his arms firmly locked around Clayton’s waist and they leaned together, foreheads touching, as the world began to come into focus again.

Once more, they were surrounded in warmth, as a small bundle of glowing fog made circles around them, Arabella’s voice emitting from the mist in a repetitive intonation of “Finally!” and several perturbed red lights blinked in the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for leaper182 who really wanted to see the boys' first kiss. I hope I did it justice. ❤


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. The muses abruptly decided they wanted to work on the next fic instead of getting down to business and finishing this one.
> 
> Then, they decided that these people can't even manage to make it to a simple birthday party without shenanigans ensuing, so we ended up with...this. 
> 
> It's basically filler, but I hope to have the last part done this weekend if all goes well.
> 
> Oh and if anyone has any ideas for a real title for this mess, feel free to offer them up. :)

_ Thursday, October 31, 1878 _

“Full house,” Clayton crowed, placing his cards on the table and laughing at the look on his companion’s face. “Tha’s ‘nother drink you owe me, Rev’rend.”

Matthew sighed. “Well, I hope Miriam gets things ready soon or I might as well just buy you the whole damn saloon.” He glanced around at the other tables in the Gem and noticed they were once more the center of attention, thanks to Clayton’s uncharacteristically loud laughter. 

After supper, Miriam had ordered them both to get washed up and don their Sunday best, then promptly banished Clayton from the house until she got things ready for his birthday party. Of course, Matthew wasn’t going to leave Clayton alone, which is how they found themselves, over two hours later, in the Gem, dressed to the nines and playing poker, with Clayton three sheets to the wind after an abysmal run of luck on Matthew’s part. 

He’d finally managed to get Clayton to switch to drinking coffee and taking IOUs for alcohol and could only hope the man was sober enough by the time they got home to avoid Miriam flaying them both alive. He had just signaled Bill to send over another cup when the door opened and Aly came hurrying in.

“There you are,” he said as he approached their table. “Sorry, I ran into a delay - oh, Lord, don’t tell me he’s drunk.” He groaned, watching Johnny come over with a cup of coffee, exchanging it for the empty one Clayton was still holding in his hand.

“Okay, I won’t tell you,” Matthew said dryly.

“‘M not drunk.”

“Sure you’re not.” Aly dropped into an empty chair and sighed. “Miriam’s going to kill me. She was already pretty pissed at how late I was getting--” He cut himself off, glancing at Clayton, “back.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, you won’t be dying alone. I’m the one that let him get drunk, after all.”

“‘M  _ not _ drunk.” Clayton was practically pouting at this point and it took every ounce of control Matthew had not to kiss him right here in the middle of the Gem.

“Say it without slurrin’ next time and I might believe ya, kid,” Aly snorted, then turned back to Matthew. “Suppose we could always send him in alone and let her get the worst out of her system.”

“Are you kidding? She’d take one look at him and go into Mama Grizzly mode and  _ we _ were the last two seen with her baby boy.”

“Hey!” Clayton reached out and clumsily smacked Matthew’s arm. “Ain’t no baby!”

“Sorry,” Matthew chuckled, belying the apology. “Must be that baby face of yours that confused me.”

“Or the fact the little shit’s been lying about his age so long he’s probably started to believe it hisself.” Aly smirked as Clayton turned to stare at him, incredulously. “I was given a loose description of Amos Kinsley before I arrived, remember? 

“‘Late twenties,’ they said. It’s why I didn’t recognize you immediately. Damn, that beard did its job.” He shook his head, then noticed the shocked expression on Matthew’s face and cackled, gleefully. “Oh, lordy, don’t tell me you didn’t know you was robbin’ the cradle, Reverend!”

“Shh!” Matthew hissed, looking around in panic, but fortunately there was no one close enough to hear what Aly had said. 

“He ain’t robbin’ no cradle,” Clayton said, indignantly. “And I’m thirty.”

“As of today.”

“Like a month makes any difference!”

“And you’re still a decade younger than any of us, ‘cept for--”

“What the hell are you lot doing here?” Arabella’s voice suddenly boomed from just a few feet away, making them all jump. “Miriam’s fit to be--Clayton, are you drunk?”

“Not anymore, unfortunately.” Clayton groused, rubbing his temples.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'd hoped to finish this weekend, but a building full of smoke and camera issues had other plans, so another short update, I'm afraid.

To say that Miriam was displeased with the way the day was going would be the understatement of several lifetimes.

She had worked hard to get everything set up for the birthday party. Even though it would only be the five of them, this was Clayton's first experience with having not only his birth, but his very existence, celebrated and she wanted to make it as special for him as possible.

She had sent Clayton out of the house, thinking it would only be an hour at most before everything was ready, since she'd baked the cake ahead of time. Arabella was handling gift wrapping while she decorated and Aly had sworn his trip to pick up Clayton's gift would only take 'an hour, tops.'

By the time he finally arrived back at the house some two hours later, she was ready to throttle him with some of the leftover paper decorations. Instead, she ordered him to clean up and then go track down their missing reverend and birthday boy.

Five minutes after he left, she began to rethink the wisdom of sending him on that task, as she was sure his first stop would be the Gem and she didn't trust him not to get distracted by his three 'friends' there, so she sent Bella out after him.

That had been nearly half-an-hour ago and she was just getting ready to grab her shawl and head out, herself, when she heard the outside door to the mud room open and several voices talking over each other.

"Miriam! I found them!" Bella called.

"I found them first!"

"Okay," she conceded, "I found them  _ and _ Aly!"

"We weren't actually lost." She didn't think the Reverend was actually raising his voice, but it boomed out above the rest all the same.

Rolling her eyes at their antics, she made her way over and opened the door, just in time to catch Clayton softly voice his own plea. 

"Would you all please stop shouting? Matty I can get my jacket off just fine by myself, thank you."

She took one look at the light flush to his cheeks and his bright, slightly glazed eyes and rounded on the Reverend and Aly. "You got him drunk?"

"Hey, I wasn't even there. You can't blame this one on me..."

"It wasn't intentional. We didn't realize how long we were going to be there and It kind of snuck up on us. He was fine for the first hour."

"...Never mind."

"Matty got me to switch to coffee as soon as he realized what was wrong," Clayton put in, cutting the other two off. "It wasn't their fault. I'm the one who did the drinking and I'm sober enough now." He bowed his head a bit and looked up guiltily from beneath his lashes, biting his bottom lip. "I'm sorry if I've ruined the evening for you after all your hard work."

All of her anger melted away and she hurried forward to give Clayton a swift hug, before taking his arm in hers and leading him back toward the sitting room, where she'd set everything up for the party. "Don't you be worryin' about me, darlin'. This is  _ your _ party. I should've realized you might need a little liquid courage, given how new this all is to you."

She was totally oblivious to the two men left behind, staring slack-jawed as she led Clayton away, Bella trailing immediately after.

"One minute she's going to skin us all alive and the next she's all sweetness and light. How the hell does he  _ do _ that?" Aly wondered.

"The scary thing is, I don't even think  _ he _ knows." Matthew shook his head, ruefully, then hurried to catch up, not wanting to miss a moment of celebrating Clayton's birthday with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Miriam had truly outdone herself with the party. Even working with the limited resources she had at hand here in Deadwood, and with only a couple days’ notice, she had managed to make the sitting room look festive with just a few paper streamers, some drapery, and bows. She’d even managed some sweet frosting for the cake and had come up with a few simple parlour games for entertainment.

Clayton had been overwhelmed at first and Matthew was certain if there’d been anyone other than the four of them there, he’d have bolted to his room within the first five minutes. 

Miriam passed the younger man off to him while she arranged the games and he was surprised at the amount of tension radiating through Clayton’s body.

“Hey, you okay?” he whispered, pulling him close and giving a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah. Sorry, it’s just...She went to all this trouble for me,” he gestured around the room. “And I don’t want to screw anything up, but I don’t know what to do.” 

The last few words were barely audible, but he sounded so lost that Matthew just had to lead him to a chair and sit him on his lap. The fact he didn’t balk at the public display said more about his state of mind than anything else. Fortunately, the others were making a point to pay them no mind.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered fondly, giving Clayton a peck on the cheek. “You aren’t going to screw anything up. You are not expected to do anything other than, hopefully, relax and enjoy yourself.” He gave the younger man another squeeze. “We could always call the whole thing off--”

“No!” Clayton said quickly, and a bit louder than he probably meant to. “No. I’m just overthinking everything.” He heaved a sigh and visibly tried to make himself relax, while reaching down to play with Matthew’s fingers, where they rested on his belly. “I just keep thinking there is no way anyone would go to all this trouble for me and I keep expecting to wake up to find this was all a dream and I’m all alone again…”

He trailed off into silent contemplation for a moment, before giving himself a shake and turned to Matthew with a rueful smile. “You sure you want to hitch your wagon to a guy who gets maudlin every time someone does something nice for him?”

"Well, I think that just means we're going to have to do this kind of thing more often so you get used to it," Matthew smiled, then leaned in for a quick kiss.

"Oh, lordy, would you two take it easy with the mush. Some of us would like to be able to keep our cake down." 

Aly's good-natured complaint was followed by two resounding smacks, even as Matthew smiled and stole another kiss, while flipping the older man off behind Clayton's head.

* * *

Half-an-hour later, everyone, including Clayton, was breathless from laughing as their games wound down. 

Clayton's face was a bit redder than the rest, however, as Aly and Bella had quickly turned a game of 'The Minister's cat' into playful innuendo about Clayton. Miriam had nearly intervened, until Clayton's turn came and he proved he could give as well as he got.

"Alright, everyone, time for some cake and then we'll move onto gifts," Miriam announced and headed over to start serving the cake and cups of sarsaparilla.

The others immediately got up to join her, but Matthew felt Clayton tense up at his side, once more. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Were we supposed to bring gifts?" Clayton asked, clearly fearing he'd made some sort of social faux pas.

Matthew laughed lightly and pulled him to his feet. "It's  _ your _ birthday. The gifts are all for  _ you _ ." His laughter stopped immediately when he saw the look of bewilderment on Clayton's face. "This is the first time you've gotten gifts, isn't it?" Clayton blushed and turned away, which was all the answer he needed. "Well, tonight's the perfect occasion for you to get used to it."

' _ And tomorrow, Miriam and I are going to start doing some planning for Christmas. _ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only the gifts to go for this one, then onto the next angst-fest, which I'm already feeling a bit of guilt over and I'm only one chapter in. ;)


	8. Chapter 8

The cake was delicious and Miriam happily accepted the compliments the others heaped on her, as they all sat around chatting for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other's company.

Once everyone had finished, Aly excused himself and headed outside, while Miriam and Arabella started gathering the dishes, admonishing Clayton to stay put when he offered to assist. 

"You're the guest of honor, Clay, relax and enjoy one night off from your gentlemanly duties," Bella teased, then turned to Matthew. "You, on the other hand, are perfectly capable of lending a hand, Reverend."

"Oh, of course. Let me assist you, ladies," Matthew said, quickly, hurrying to collect his and Clayton's dishes and following the women into the kitchen.

Clayton watched them all go, bemused, then looked around at the now empty room. It was such a shocking difference after the last hour of talking and laughing and he found himself hating the very solitude he'd sought and wrapped himself in, like a blanket, for more than a decade.

Fortunately, his potential lapse into melancholy was cut short as the kitchen door opened and Miriam and Arabella came through, laughing, followed by Matthew, who was laden down with several wrapped packages.

"Gifts for the birthday boy!" Bella announced, as the Reverend made his way over and set the gifts on the floor at Clayton's feet.

They all took their seats, watching Clayton, who couldn't seem to make himself move. 

Was there some order to this? 

Was he just supposed to pick one at random and open it? 

Did he need to say something first? 

He shot Matthew a look that cried 'Help!'

Matthew smiled reassuringly and reached out to give his knee a squeeze, before grabbing the closest package and setting it on Clayton's lap. "There you go." He drew Clayton's attention to some writing on the paper. "This one's from me."

Clayton gave him a grateful smile, then turned his attention to the package, trying to figure out the best way to open it without undue harm to the paper or causing a mess.

"It's paper, not gold, kid," Aly's amused voice came from near the door, where he'd just reentered. "Just tear into it."

Clayton looked from Aly to Miriam, and as soon as she gave him a nod and a smile, began tearing into the paper. He was amazed at how much he enjoyed the action, it was almost as pleasing as the new duster that tumbled out as the packaging was torn away.

He picked up the coat and tried it on, admiring its weight and fit - it would be heavy enough to protect from the cold, but wouldn't interfere with his ability to quickly draw his weapon.

"Thank you, Matty," he said, as he took the coat back off and hung it over the back of his chair.

"You're welcome. Wouldn't want  _ your _ cloth to get dusty, after all," he teased, with a wink, thinking fondly of the day they met and Clayton's spontaneous gift to him.

The rest of the gifts were opened quickly, revealing some new boots and wool socks (also from Matthew), as well as a light blue shirt, dark blue vest, denims, and a hat that matched the vest (all from Miriam).

"Aly and I have gifts for you, too, Clay, but we'll have to go outside for them." Bella grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet.

She led him outside, the others close on their heels, and he allowed himself to be led to the side of the house closest to the church, where he stopped in shock at the sight before him.

Standing in one of the few areas well-lit by lantern light was one of the local stablehands, holding the reins to the most beautiful black mustang he'd ever seen. One small white star on its forehead stood out brightly against the otherwise pure glossy black coat. On his back was an equally beautiful black and silver saddle.

"He's all yours. The saddle's from me, but Aly gets all the credit, since he's the one who found him."

Clayton was barely listening as he began moving, trance-like, closer to the stallion. He'd never had a horse that wasn't rented, borrowed, or even stolen in a moment of desperation, but he remembered a horse very similar to this one. A horse that was so much bigger than him, but so patient and gentle, just like...

_ "That's it, Amie. See? He likes you. You'll be riding better than me by the time you're five." Warm laughter as strong arms pulled him gently from the saddle he'd been sitting in and into a hug. _

He shook the old ghost of a memory away, then turned to give hugs to both Bella and a very surprised Aly. "Thank you both," he said, then made his way toward the horse as quickly as he could without spooking the animal. The stablehand handed him the reins, then moved away.

The others stayed back, giving him a few moments to acquaint himself with the horse. Once he'd gained its trust and began petting it almost reverently, Matthew made his way over, looking the horse over with a cavalryman's eye, before turning to Aly with a grin. "Well, you have your faults, but judging horseflesh isn't one of them."

Miriam made her way over to Clayton, blinking back tears as she saw he was practically glowing with happiness. When he finally noticed her, he gave her a smile and reached out to squeeze her hand. "Thank you for giving me this day, Miss Miriam."

"You're quite welcome." She smiled back, then nodded toward the horse. "So, any idea what you're going to name him?"

Clayton ran his hand up the horse's neck and began gently scratching it behind the ear, as he thought the question over for a moment, then nodded.

"Well, don't keep us all in suspense," Matthew said, walking up behind Miriam and giving Clayton a playful smile.

"I'm going to name him after the person who first taught me to ride - my big brother," Clayton said, seemingly talking more to the horse than to his friends. "Malachi."

Matthew suddenly felt as though someone had punched him in the gut, as that old memory from the other day blazed to life and words from more than twenty years earlier washed over him like ice water.

_ "I can't die... Oh, God... please. I can't leave...baby brother....all alone... Amie, I'm so sorry..." Breath wheezed from fluid-filled lungs in gasps that came farther and farther apart. "Please, God...Someone...watch over...Amie, I love--" _

"--going to board him for us until we get our barn built. We've already added stables to the layout, just didn't want to say anything and give it away." Bella was saying when Matthew once more became aware of his surroundings. 

Apparently, the stablehand had come to retrieve the horse - Malachi - from Clayton, so he could get him settled back into his stable, before it got any later.

As the horse was led away and the others started to go back into the house, Clayton moved closer to Matthew, who instinctively wrapped his arms around the smaller man, and smiled up at him. "I still don't quite know how I went from having no one to having you - all of you - in my life, but this was the best day I've had in...well...longer than I can actually remember." He gave a small laugh. "I love you, Matty."

"The Lord brought us together. I'm certain of it. He truly answers prayers." ' _ Even if it takes nearly twenty-five years. _ ' 

Matthew bent to capture Clayton's lips in a gentle kiss. "I love you, too." ' _ Amie _ .' 

Somewhere, across the veil, a young man smiled and finally found rest.


End file.
